New Wheels: The car

Since I was no longer driving*, we had decided to go with one automobile.  In May, Earl sold his BMW, partially because we were now a one car family and partially to get an automatic transmission.  After years of driving fun cars, it was his turn to bite the humiliation bullet.  While we waited for the new vehicle to arrive, we hung on to the Prius.

The old car
Actually, letting go of the Prius was even harder (for me) than selling the Beemer.  We had bought it in 2008 from our son when he got his corporate vehicle.  It had been my car and taken me through my final driving career.  It had hauled both the old and new motorized scooters and the walker, never complaining (spare me comments about over–personification**). Eight years old and it still only had 45,000 miles on the odometer.  Maybe I was the legendary 'owned by a little old lady...blah, blah, blah'.  In June, we sold it to our nephew for his daughter, so the Prius was owned by three generations of Schumans.  He drove us to the dealer to take delivery on the new car and then went home in the Prius.  I cried—briefly.

The Subaru Outback was attractive, had all the bells and whistles, and smelled new.  True to my 'trade in/trade up' ethos, it didn't take me long to get over selling the–what was that other car?  The new car also had the latest safety features which we grudgingly had to admit we loved and probably would benefit from.  Earl and I pushed random buttons, playing around like two novice travelers in the first class section of an airplane. The car doesn't park itself, but it has a backup camera, maintains a safe braking distance and sounds a discreet alert when the driver lane–wanders.

It was a gorgeous day and I waited outside in the fresh air.  Forgetting the new car routine, I just assumed picking up a car was a brief errand.  It was not to be.  But, I smugly thought, that was Earl's problem.  When I saw the salesman and Earl coming outside with a table and chairs, I knew the salesman wanted to include me (oh, please).  "Really, it's not necessary," I protested, "I'm happy to wait out here."  As a person with disabilities, I could spot the signs and knew it was futile to argue.  While the sales manager tried to upsell Earl, the salesman could chat with me.  Chitchat was never a personal strength or even something I liked to do. Since the ataxia affects my speech, I really enjoy not having to be conversational***.  Realizing reluctance was more of an issue than ability, I decided to bite the bullet and engage him a conversation—intrusive questions, slurred speech, and all.  He asked for it and I'm certain he was relieved when we drove away two freakin' hours later!

We were still at the dealer when the first test of the new car's utility came.  Our son had gone for a bike ride, gotten a flat tire in a nearby town and needed an "extraction".  Since he offered to buy lunch and beer, we were on the road and headed his way in a blink.  We located the pub with the car navigation system, connected our phones wirelessly via bluetooth, listened to Sirius radio, and used Find My Friends to pinpoint Jason's location.  At the end of lunch, the guys loaded the bike in the back of the car, along with my wheelchair, we drove Jason home, and showed off to Zoe and Lexi. "Grandma, your car smells funny".  I guess 'new car smell' doesn't appeal as much to children.
The new car

The real test came with the annual family vacation.  In previous years, we rented a big van to transport all our crap.  Earl bought a roof bike rack and with that, we could take everything—his bike, my trike, Skeeter, the wheelchair, coolers, and luggage****.

After a month of ownership, we've deemed the Subaru Outback a good car for us—adequate ground clearance, easy entry/exit for me, warm seats, and multiple 'techie' connections.  It's even enough fun driving for Earl.

The lesson: Whether it's a bike, a scooter, or a car, it's about more than transportation.  We just need to remember not to drive into the garage with a bike in the roof rack.

*Previous post: Driving Miss Tammy
**Previous post: Upgrading
***Previous post: Speak the speech
****Previous post: Runaway walker

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